Friday, August 22, 2014

Excerpt and Giveaway with Lynda Bailey


The nearness of Liam’s voice whipped Kate around.

He stood close—very close—to her. So close she could see the dove gray flecks swimming in his sea-green eyes. She wanted to be strong, to stand up to him, but his presence gobbled up all the oxygen, and she couldn’t breathe.

She gulped for air and spun away, but his arm rifled out, cutting off her escape. He stood right behind her, trapping her. The metal edge of the sink dug into her hip.

Her pulse rapped out an erratic beat. She hunched her shoulders to make herself smaller, to make sure he didn’t touch her, and stared at his hand. It looked burly, with a light dusting of hair on his knuckles, and able to inflict damage. A lot of damage. “Move back.” She hated that her voice shook.

“But you asked me a question.” His voice, so low and so hard, roiled her stomach. “And it’d be rude not to answer it, right?” His breath wafted over the nape of her neck. “Right?”

His steel-edged voice weakened her knees. Tears gathered in her eyes. Her breaths came faster. It felt like the elephant from that asthma commercial was parked on her chest. “I said to move back.”

“Make me move,” he purred into her ear.

She pressed her lips together to keep from crying out. Her entire body quaked.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

Stars crowded her vision. Her mouth dried up.

“You’re all about ordering me around like I’m your little bitch. So order me now. Go on. I dare you. Make. Me. Move.”

Blackness swallowed her and she was falling. Down…down into an endless abyss.

“Red light…”

Lynda will be giving away a $10 gift card to one lucky commenter. Please leave your email address below. This give away will end 8/31/14 at midnight.

Lynda has always loved stories, especially romances. For her the only thing better than reading a romance is writing one. That and drinking red wine while eating dark chocolate.


Her romances are full of passion, with heat levels that range from hot to sizzling! She’s proud to have been a 2010 finalist in the prestigious Golden Heart®. Please join Lynda for laughter and love, and where the good guys always win in the end.


Lynda lives in Reno with her husband of thirty+ years and their two pampered pooches. You can visit her at Or drop her an email at


Thursday, August 21, 2014

Excerpt and Giveaway with Toya Richardson


            She stood with her hands on her hips, a defiant look in her eyes. Armand hid the smile on his face; her stance was that of a cornered wild animal ready to pounce. He sauntered over to stand in front of her. His eyes locked with hers, ice-blue on liquid- amber. He noted that dark brown bubbles appeared amidst the golden color the more agitated she became. She never took her eyes from his. The only outward sign of her nervousness was the way her tongue darted out and moistened her dry lips.

            Armand found that simple act appealing. Her lips were full, just ripe for kissing. He imagined his mouth locked with hers, their tongues duelling fervently. A vision of them lying naked on his bed, in a state of post-coital bliss entered his head. He took in a deep breath, knowing he could not allow such dangerous thoughts to creep into his mind. But it was hard, he knew she was a seasoned fighter, he also realised she was vulnerable and had seen far too much violence in her short life.

            “Freya,” he whispered the words to her, “believe me, I know how you feel. You’re not the only one who has suffered at the hands of Global Innovations. Phoenicia Coeur and her followers have much to answer for. But you’re being driven by revenge, it’s making you blind to the danger you place yourself in. If you want to strike at them, you need to be prepared and trained for such an event. At the very least, you have to know how to keep a lid on your anger.”

            Freya ran a shaky hand through her deep auburn curls; the act was one of frustration. To Armand, it was a very innocent but sexy move, one which sent heat straight to his groin. Oh how he’d love to bury his face in her hair and breathe in her scent. Jesus, what the hell was the matter with him? He hadn’t had these kinds of feelings around a woman for years!

            “I am not a child. I’ve taken out several of their operatives, both human and Atlantean rogues. Just let me go so I can kill Dieter and then I promise to hand myself over to the care of the Seekers. And by the way, what is your name?”

            “I am Armand De Silva. For many centuries I have assisted in the training of those of us with Atlantean blood. My title is guardian and along with other guardians, we go out to locate those of Atlantean heritage before the likes of Dieter get to them. I am to help you understand the gifts you’ve been given.”

            He held out his hand to her. Freya looked at it as if it was a deadly weapon. Her gaze travelled from his hand and back to his eyes. Her eyes narrowed and she pushed past him.  He got the feeling she felt threatened by him and maybe something more.

            Prowling around the room, she looked as if she sought a door to escape through. He got the feeling that she wasn’t about to let a man tell her what to do, especially when she didn’t know anything about him. He could see the defiance in her expression and then the air in the room began to shimmer. She was about to call her powers to her. Her essence was one of the most powerful he’d ever felt.  Before he could stop her, she’d summoned her chameleon and headed for the door.

Armand was one step ahead of her; he had Freya’s scent deep inside him now. As the door opened he lunged to where he knew her legs were and brought her crashing to the ground. So he didn’t hurt her, he rolled her over before she hit the floor.

            Freya fought him like a wildcat as she reappeared in the room, kicking, biting and thumping Armand with all her might. He rolled her again so she was underneath him. He pinned her arms to the floor with one hand, while his legs held her body firmly beneath him. Feeling her writhing underneath his body started a raging desire inside him. How could he want a woman so badly after only just meeting her?

            “Get, off, me!” She punctuated each word through gritted teeth. He could almost feel the anger rampaging through her.

            “I will get off you, if you promise not to try that stunt again. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will render you unconscious and take you over my shoulder to the Seekers headquarters. I’m sure you don’t want me to do that do you?”

            Freya stopped struggling and looked up at him with unrestrained fury in her expression, her breathing was ragged and her cheeks were deep crimson. Armand found his heart was thudding in his chest. It took all his effort not to dip his mouth down to hers and kiss that angry look right off her face.

            Armand noted the change in her behaviour. He suddenly realised that she was probably reliving the experience of watching her parents suffer at Dieter’s hands. Having her trapped in this matter would only make things worse for her. He slowly let her arms go and rolled away from her, giving her space. He offered her his hand and assisted her to her feet.

“I am sorry if I scared you, it was not my intention to cause you any alarm. All I want to do is see you safely to Paul. I know it is far too soon to even consider trusting me, but I can give you the training you need to bring Global Innovations, and Dieter Yong, to their knees. I’d never hurt you, you have to believe me.”

Toya will be giving away a $25 gift card to Amazon to one lucky commenter. Please leave your email address to win. This will end 8/30/14 at midnight.

Author Info

Although writing has been a big part of life for many years, it’s since 2009 that I’ve completed most of my work. Starting off with a romance/thriller, then fantasy and my most recent work, which is paranormal romance.


I grew up in Essex, but now reside in Suffolk – with my husband, grown up son and Masai the cat - where I work part time as an admin assistant. My other hobbies and interests include; reading, Formula One racing, darts, listening to music - mainly rock - cinema, live concerts, going to the theatre, keeping fit, gardening and holidays.




My mum was the biggest driving force in my life, always encouraging me to write down all my thoughts and dreams. She bought me adventure books from an early age and I became engrossed in fantasy worlds and their people. When she died suddenly in 2009, it made me realise how fragile life is and that if you want to achieve something, go out and do it while you can. I also long to dedicate my first book to her, it seems a fitting tribute for her belief in me and my abilities.


There are various sources that inspiration comes from. I’ve always been a big reader and guess my interest started with the Chronicles of Narnia series. I also read two books penned by Victoria Walker, The Winter of Enchantment and The House Called Hadlows. I often made up different worlds and their people in my head from about the age of ten.


My literary heroines and heroes are David Eddings, Sherrylin Kenyon, Robin McKinley, Christine Feehan and J R R Tolkein. I also watch fantasy and paranormal romance films, everything from Sinbad, Jason and the Argonauts, Marvel Comic heroes, Lord of the Rings and the Twilight Saga. Some of my favourite TV programmes are, Fringe, Lost Girl, Grimm, Moonlight, Blood Ties, Beauty and the Beast, Sinbad and Robin of Sherwood - to name but a few - all of which help to give me ideas in some way.




The dream is to eventually give up my office job and write Paranormal Romance novels full time. It isn’t about the money - it never has been - it’s a passion and I love to create new worlds and characters, to watch them grow and evolve. As long as there are characters and stories in my head, I will continue to enjoy bringing them to life.


Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Breaking His Rules (Feeling the Heat #4) by Alison Packard out Sept 8th!!!


"Losing fifty pounds is an incredible achievement. But for Melissa Atherton, progress doesn’t come with praise—a scathing comment from an evil cousin at a bridal shower threatens to crush her new self-esteem. Who will she bring to the upcoming wedding? Showing up without a date would be humiliating. It just isn’t an option.

Personal trainer Jake Sawyer was attracted to Melissa before she lost weight, but her progress has him floored. When she admits she plans to hire a male escort—and why—his heart all but breaks. Melissa’s come too far to be knocked down, especially by her own family. He’ll go as her date…and figure out a way to keep his hands to himself.

But when a steamy hotel room encounter takes them both by surprise, Jake balks. He’s sworn never to date one of his clients, not again. And Melissa can’t bear to be just friends with the man who treated her so tenderly, even if it was only for a weekend. Jake’s helped her see she’s strong enough to stand up for herself, but will she find the strength to pursue the only man who’s ever seen the real her?"

I love this series!! The heroes and heroines are to die for. This book was truly one of my favorites!!! I can't wait for more of this series!! Jake was awesome and Melissa was wonderful.

You can tell right from the beginning they like each other but they are trying to fight it. After all Jake has had a bad experience before but he can't help the attraction he feels toward Melissa. Melissa has been over weight and now its time to show everyone she has what it takes to be healthy. 

I loved that Melissa was a strong heroine and wasn't annoying. She is determined to try to stay on the bright side no matter the cost. At times I wanted to just wake Jake up but when he finally got his head out of his ass I loved him as much as Melissa did.

Now the wait for Justin is truly going to suck but I know it will be worth it in the end!!!

This book is due out September 8th. Pre-order it today!!!

Excerpt and Giveaway with Alice Gaines

Carole nodded, and her butler walked away toward the back of the house. The tray he’d indicated held a few envelopes, so she picked them up and took them into Oscar’s study.
She pushed back the roll top of his desk and laid the envelopes on the blotter. Once seated, she couldn’t help but notice the fanciful bird hidden in one of the nooks meant for envelopes. An antique of alabaster so fine it was nearly translucent, the figurine had cost a great deal of money. One of the dozens of things Oscar had bought for her simply because she’d wanted it. He’d had excellent taste—far better than her own. But as soon as she’d fallen in love with something, he’d declare it the finest example of whatever kind of work it was and buy it for her on the spot.
The figurine watched her as she sorted the mail—two bills, a shareholder’s statement, and another envelope. A letter from a law firm she didn’t recognize.
After the settlement of Oscar’s estate, she ought to know every lawyer in New York, but this one didn’t jog her memory. She opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of heavy vellum.
“My dear Mrs. Rutherford,” it read. “Please allow me to extend condolences on the loss of your husband.”
Oh yes, that. She’d had enough sympathy to last several lifetimes.
“I wish I could be with you during these difficult hours. You won’t remember me, but we met a few times several years ago. I’ve kept the memory of those encounters fresh in my mind ever since. You are not easy to forget.”
Dear Lord. What on Earth could that mean? She looked at the signature and found only an initial. T. The person had closed with “Fondly, T.”
The envelope gave no clue to the identity of the author. Simply the address of a law office on Fifth Avenue. When had lawyers started writing notes like this? She went back to the letter.
“If it’s not asking too much, I’d like to hear back from you. I know this seems an odd request, and I’ll be happy to explain at length in another letter if you’re interested. Simply reply to Mr. Rose at the address on the envelope. If you don’t answer, I won’t bother you any further. Fondly, T.”
Mr. Rose. She searched her memory. With all of Oscar’s family’s acquaintances and their friends in New York and the opera society and the people who flitted in for Oscar’s intellectual salons, she’d met hundreds of people in the last several years. None of them were named Rose that she could recall. Not even a woman with a first name Rose. And why would the person write to her using a law firm as an intermediary?
He must have meant to protect his identity for some reason, although heaven only knew why someone would feel they had to fear her. Or, maybe he’d only tried to intrigue her. He’d accomplished that nicely. Or, possibly…just possibly…he’d wanted to make her feel safe enough to respond. This way of communicating almost promised a barrier between them, a wall she could throw up if he got too close. Another level of intrigue.
She ran her fingers absent-mindedly over the paper. They stopped at the sentence that had made her breath catch. “You are not easy to forget.”
She shouldn’t reply. No sane woman would. She might find a maniac on the other end of the chain of communication. She should visit Edna, go to Saratoga this summer, attend more to family manners. Any decent woman would. But damn it all, she’d been decent too long. What harm could a letter do? She’d probably never hear from him again, and if she did, she’d keep things strictly to corresponding through a firm of lawyers. You couldn’t get much safer than that.
She fished through the cubbyholes until she found some of her own letterhead. The man had to know her address if his attorney did.
She set the piece of stationery in front of her and picked up a pen.
“Mrs. Oscar Rutherford,” the printing said. Good Lord, at least she could have one of her own names back now. She crossed out Oscar and substituted Carole. Then, she began to write.
Even in the city, the rose arbor at the end of the garden behind Carole’s house felt like a sylvan paradise. She sat alone on a wooden bench, surrounded by the flowers’ perfume and the buzzing of insects. A damselfly whizzed by and landed on a leaf near her head. Its body shone in iridescent blues and greens too brilliant to be real. She watched it until it flew off again.
The time had come for her to settle on what to do with the rest of her life. At forty, she might not even have spent half of her time on Earth. She had her health and plenty of money. She only needed some purpose—something to drive her forward so she didn’t just dwell in the past.
She ought to do charity work. Other women in her position spent their time that way. Organize teas for benevolent associations. Host fundraising events for the symphony and ballet. She’d attended enough of those. She ought to know how to run one. The mere thought gave her a headache.
Why try to fool herself? Her head wasn’t the problem. Her body was, specifically the spot between her legs. For the last years of his life, Oscar hadn’t had the strength to perform. He’d slip into her room from time to time and huddle beneath the covers with her. Then he’d kiss her and smile, but a sadness had filled his eyes, although he tried to hide it. He’d known he couldn’t give her what she needed.
She’d loved him, damn it. She’d kept her vows. She’d been a good wife. She deserved more. And now, at her age, she could only tempt another older man. She’d never have what her body craved.
Enough self-pity. Most women would love to have her life. She only needed to find a way to make the most of the many blessings she’d been given.
She started to rise but then spotted Mayne coming down the path toward her. He had a glass of something in one hand and a bronze salver in the other. When he reached her, he held both out.
“Cook thought you might like some lemonade,” he said.
“Thank you.” She took the glass and sipped the tangy, sweet liquid.
“And the mail.” Mayne set the tray on the bench beside her, turned, and went back toward the house.
The mail consisted of only one letter—from the same law firm that had sent the odd correspondence from Mr. Rose earlier. She’d written back weeks ago and had heard nothing. It seemed she’d have a reply, after all.
She set aside the lemonade and picked up the letter.
“Dear Carole,” it began. “I hope I may call you that.
“I had so feared you wouldn’t answer my note that my heart soared with delight to see your letterhead and the graceful hand that addressed it. You see, although I haven’t had the pleasure of being in your company for years, I think of you so often, I felt your presence near me when I sat down to compose that opening salvo in what I hope will become a long and satisfying friendship.”
Oh, my. Odd, very odd. One might even find it frightening. Still, it was only a letter, and one sent through a third party. This Mr. Rose hadn’t approached her directly, and she’d be perfectly safe inside her own house with a full household staff if he tried.
“Indulge me, please,” it went on. “Is your hair still the golden color of ale it was when I last saw you? Are your eyes as clear and deep as emeralds? Do you still hold your chin at that defiant angle when challenged?
“Forgive me if I seem too bold, but that’s how I remember you—a woman of great integrity and beauty. If I’ve said more than I should, by all means, let this letter be our last. But I do hope I haven’t offended you and that you’ll dignify my requests with a response.
“Until then, I remain fondly yours, T.”
Her heart was racing when she finished reading the note. Although he’d described her poetically, he had the details of her appearance correct. He’d even noticed what Oscar had always called her stubborn jaw. They had, indeed, met, and he’d paid close attention to her appearance.
Rose, Rose. Why couldn’t she remember anyone named Rose? She must have noticed him at least once as he so clearly knew her.
She picked up the envelope and studied the return address again. Bradley and Morrison, Attorneys at Law. Fine. Tomorrow, someone on their staff would explain these letters and tell her exactly who Mr. T. Rose was.
Alice will be giving away a copy of her book to one lucky commenter. Please leave your email address to enter. This will end 8/29/14 at midnight
Alice Gaines writes erotic romance for Red Sage, Etopia Press, and Changeling Press.  She writes erotica for Avon Impulse.  She has also published with Leisure Books, Harlequin Spice Briefs, and Carina Press, among others.


Alice likes her food spicy and her reading spicier.  She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area in a fixer-upper she never fixed up.  She shares the back yard with a neurotic stray cat.  Her beloved pet corn snake, Casper, has his own house in her writing room.  Besides writing, Alice loves cooking, knitting and crocheting, and vegetable gardening.  She’s insane about funky soul band, Tower of Power.  Alice serves on the altar guild at her church.


Alice’s website is  Every Friday, she posts an erotic excerpt at  On the fourth Friday of the month, she posts an installment of The Adventures of Wonderslut.  She’s @AliceGaines on Twitter.  Feel free to e-mail her at



Monday, August 18, 2014

Excerpt & Giveaway with Elle Boon

Giveaway: Elle is Giving away a  choice either book 1,2 or 3 to a lucky winner. Please leave a comment with your email address to enter. This giveaway will end 8/24/14 at midnight. Good Luck!!!


Gray lifted her leg over his, stretching her thighs wide. The blunt tip of his cock rubbed against the folds of her soaking pussy, the mushroom shaped head already pushing inside her. His head bent, licking her lips while his arm held her leg near his shoulder. It was a good thing she was flexible, flashed into her mind.

Her taste was as intoxicating as the finest tequila Gray had ever consumed. His tongue traced her raspberry red mouth. Goddess he loved her unique flavor. He closed his eyes, sliding the rest of the way inside of her heated depths. Gray used his powers to stimulate her breasts into tight hard points, hearing her gasp when he emulated the sensation of his mouth on first one nipple and then the next made his dick twitch.

Colt was working her tight rear entrance, and each time he did something she obviously liked, her Kegel muscles nearly strangled him, but you’d hear no complaints from Gray.

His kiss turned voracious. He wanted to memorize everything about this moment. She met him in intensity, her tongue tangled with his, sucking on the tip like a favorite treat.

Gray trickled his power in a slow caress down her ribs, over her flat belly. The jewel in her belly button was a turn on he enjoyed tugging with his teeth. He let his power flare out to roll over her clit in tight slow circles. Them Kegel muscles started squeezing again, and holy shitballs his eyes just about rolled to the back of his head, but he didn’t want to miss one second of this.

Jaklyn tensed up. “I’m not sure this is gonna work, boys.” She breathed out.

“Just relax, baby. We can make this easier for you.” Colt’s hand ran around to cup her breast.

“What do you mean?”

Gray grunted. “We can relax you in more ways than one.”

“Like drug me?”

“Oh for fucksake, no not drug you. You know we can manipulate things right?” He waited for her to finish her vigorous nodding. “We can ease things for you.”

“Well get to the easing, damn it. Have you had something the size of that”—she shoved her ass into Colt—“into your nether region?”

Gray laughed. “Can’t say that I have. Colt, you take care of that, I’ve got the front half filled.”

“Now, that was lame,” Jaklyn said, smiling into his face.

He felt Colt easing inside their woman, her hips rocked forward, her head tilted back as he held Jaklyn more firmly.

Once they were fully inside her, it took everything in him not to try and drive deeper, with his cock right where he wanted it to be he prayed for patience. He glimpsed down to where they were connected, seeing his cock slick from being inside her almost made him come. Fuck, he needed to think about something else.

“Son of a bitch, I’m not… I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything this good in my life.” Colt’s words echoed what Gray was experiencing.

Jaklyn had one arm wrapped around Gray, and the other held Colt’s arm that was locked on her leg.

Gray increased his thrust in tandem to Colt’s, like synchronized music they pushed and pulled out in opposite strokes. The scents of mouthwatering syrup and cinnamon permeated the air, one layering over the other as their essences combined.

Jaklyn’s eyelids slid half closed, while Colt’s and his bodies began to sweat. Her body took on a glistening hue that mesmerized Gray. “You are so fucking beautiful.” His voice cracked. “When I look at you I see my future.”

“And you said you weren’t poetic.” Her fingers twined in Gray’s hair.

Back and forth, they slammed their bodies together, the headboard hit the wall.

“Please tell me you’re close, Jaklyn.” Colt’s voice was hoarse.

“So damn close.”

Gray grunted. “What do you need?”

Her head thrashed, nearly head butting Colt.

Colt pulled almost all the way out of Jaklyn, making her tense. Gray drove higher inside, grinding his pelvis against her clit. He connected with Colt on the spiral path they’d been using for centuries, knowing instinctively what his best friend had planned. When Colt would slam back inside, Gray pulled back, their cocks rubbing against each other almost sending Gray over the edge.

Their thrusts came faster, Gray was lost in the friction of it. Through their link he realized that Jaklyn was just as lost to the sensation of the dual penetration. A scream was ripped from her throat, echoing around the silent room, except for the sounds of their bodies slapping against each other. He and Colt followed her over the edge of bliss, her body squeezing the cum from both of them, milking their seeds from deep within their balls. He shouted, the pounding rhythm completely forgotten.

White-hot heat arced over his body, his hands slick with sweat couldn’t find purchase on Jaklyn’s hips. A dark sensation tingled from his toes up his legs, radiating out of every pore on his body. He locked eyes with Jaklyn and Colt. Both of them had their eyes wide with expressions he was sure mirrored his. A last shout of pleasure as another orgasm was ripped from him, this one even more intense than the last.

Gray and Colt continued to rock back and forth, the sliding motion making Gray’s dick jerk, and more cum spill out. Finally, when he was sure his cock had stopped twitching, he eased out with a groan. “Jaklyn,” he said. “Did we hurt you? Please open your eyes.”

Colt was slower to pull out, his hand waving over their Fated’s body, easing and cleansing her in one smooth motion.

Author Bio

I’m a wife and mother who is a retired stay at home mom of 2. I say retired because my youngest is 14 and my oldest is 20. When my baby went to school, reading saved my sanity, and then the same year he started school, I was diagnosed with Cancer, again reading saved my sanity. When I recovered and realized how quickly life could change, I made a bucket list. The number one thing was to live. Check. On top of that list was to become a published author. Check. Eight years later I have accomplished that goal and several others.

I live in the Midwest, but am a southern girl with only a slight twang who says y’all quite frequently, and am known to say “Bless Your Heart” A LOT. If you know what that means, you do not want to be the one I say that to, lol. I cuss worse than if a trucker and a sailor were put together, but I do it with class *WEG*.

I write what I love to read, erotic romance. My books are definitely full of lots of story, but I leave nothing to the imagination when it comes to the sex. My hope, is that after my readers have read one of my stories, they fall in love with my characters as much as I have.

The best part of my new journey is that I get to create new worlds and have all kinds of stories in my head just waiting to be written. I’m creating new worlds, and I hope you all enjoy them with me. I can guarantee you’ll always have a hero or two you’ll love, and a heroine you’ll want to be.

I love to hear from readers, you can find me on Twitter or Facebook or my website, but I’m on Facebook all the time, so find me, I’d love to hear from you J





Thursday, August 14, 2014

Shark Week Excerpt from Cynthia Sax, Sinful Rewards 2 on is on sale!!!

Belinda “Bee” Carter isn’t quite sure what she’s gotten herself into. She’s been receiving mysterious messages from a secret admirer who is sending her more and more erotic dares. Each time she fulfills his desires, she gets rewarded. She’s convinced that her mystery texter is one of two super-hot men—Nicolas, the handsome billionaire, or Hawke, the sexy biker—but she can’t tell which one it is. And she’s coming to realize that beneath her peaches-and-cream exterior beats a heart that longs to play out all of her most secret fantasies.


As the stakes are raised again, will Bee succumb to the sensual allure of this latest dare?




The bus arrives six minutes late. It’s crammed full of people. Painted faces are pressed against the steamed-up windows. I spot dorsal fin hats and giant foam fish, which can mean only one thing—it’s Shark Week at the Shedd.


The driver opens the door, looks at me, glances behind him at the masses of bodies wedged into the space. “You’re small. You might fit.” He flicks his fingers, ushering me onto the vehicle.


“Thank you.” I’m average size but I don’t argue. I pay my fare and slide between a broad woman proudly wearing an I Heart Hammerheads T-shirt and a bearded man in a suit. My hand sticks out of the suffocating human sandwich, my purse hanging over the fare box.


The bus jerks forward. I slam against the corporate lumberjack, my breasts smacking against his chest. “Sorry.” I widen my stance, better bracing myself, embarrassed by the contact.


He grunts, his response swallowed by his beard. Moisture beads on his forehead. His suit jacket smells like wet wool.


I stare at his lapels, trying to act as though I’m not pressed against him, as though I’m not sharing an intimate embrace with a stranger, our thighs, hips, chests touching. The floor vibrates under my shoes. I don’t know how fast we are moving, as I can’t see outside, my view blocked by bodies, my fellow passengers much taller than I am.


A lady grumbles loudly about great whites giving other sharks a bad name. “Everyone knows the great white is the only shark worth talking about,” a man snaps.


Passengers gasp, their reactions encouraging the combatants. The verbally dueling duo exchange increasingly shrill insults, drawing oohs and aahs from the shark-savvy crowd. I wince, my eardrums ringing. Shark fans make Black Friday shoppers appear civilized, and these adversaries are locked in a to-the-death standoff, their hostility spiraling my anxiety skyward.


The man finally calls her a seal lover, the ultimate insult. The woman shrieks. Foam slaps against foam. Bodies sway. The bus stops, and everyone groans.


“Is this an incident?” the driver asks. “Do I have to notify dispatch?”

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Monday, August 11, 2014

Susan Elizabeth Phillips Quiz - FUN!!!

Which Susan Elizabeth Phillips’ hero would give you a lift if your car broke down at the side of the road? Take the quiz!
Susan’s new novel, HEROES ARE MY WEAKNESS, is on sale August 26th!